


like a duckling follows

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [123]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28938570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: crowley tires of adult responsibilities, and gabriel takes care of him while aziraphale's away
Relationships: Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), implied and referenced a/c/g
Series: gomens drabble hell [123]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Kudos: 23





	like a duckling follows

**Author's Note:**

> gabriel is a good gentle boy and i will ignore canon to my death anyways more crowgabe fluff bc its always angst or smut w/ these two gotta change it up a lil

the kettle is whistling.

the kettle is whistling, and though he’d been the one to start it in the first place, crowley now finds the task of ending its shrill tirade utterly insurmountable.

his stomach sinks low, as he eyes the hot licks of flame beneath the kettle’s metal bottom. painted yellow, it's a kitschy, tacky little thing. a testament to how much aziraphale enjoys decking the necessities of his bookshop out in a grandma-esque fashion. the whole room reminds him terribly of a retirement home, with its floral-patterned walls, and bowls crafted of china and porcelain in the cupboards - the sort that most humans would insist are _decoration only._

in his current state, crowley is too terrified to touch anything. it's all either too dangerous, or too breakable. the kettle, of course, falling into the former category. but it just won't stop _rearing_ its voice, screeching like a hissing cat, and his body is going icy and cold with it. chills running up his shoulders, and a buzzing sensation beneath his skin, burned into his flesh as he slowly drops to the floor, shrouding himself with his back to the countertop cabinets. he whimpers, a small, pitiful sound that only serves to make him more embarrassed. demon though he may be, snakes have never been known for their cowardice. they’re clever, crooked and two-faced. always one step ahead of whatever presence they're manipulating. and look at him - here he is, the very first tempter, eden’s finest, curling in on himself on an angel’s kitchen floor. he’s _ridiculous._

with his eyes closed, he can only listen to the sound of feet padding into the kitchen. aziraphale is off running errands today, filling his cart with ingredients for a surprise crowley’s already worked out - he’s making him _devil’s food cake,_ as if that weren't the most delightfully cliche gesture imaginable.

still, if aziraphale is at the store, then the footsteps must belong to another angel. an angel far less prepared for handling crowley’s frail composure. and crowley is about to look up, to tell him it's alright to go away, to leave him be, he can handle this on his own, but then there's a hand over his head, and a voice deep enough to weave relief into crowley’s veins.

“hey,” gabriel soothes him, petting at his scalp gently, scritching him like he would a particularly nervous dog. “what's wrong, buddy? you need anything?”

crowley clings to him shamelessly, abandoning any sense of humiliation a more clear mind might apply to this. “up,” he whispers.

“alright, i’ve gotcha.” gabriel lifts him with arms around his waist, letting crowley do some of the work as he locks his legs against his hips. “up we go, little guy. you wanna tell me what's got you all upset?”

“fire,” crowley mumbles, sinking his head into gabriel’s shoulder, limply breathing in his calming scent. it's perfection, a lavender concoction that radiates pure vibrance, like stepping into the far end of a perfume aisle. “you smell like a bath and body works.” he tells gabriel, a little smugly.

gabriel twists the knob on the stove off, and the kettle hushes to a dim quiet, the room dulling along with it. crowley, if possible, goes even more pliant. he’s completely relaxed now, content to be coddled.

“how about,” gabriel pats at his back, stroking between his shoulder blades in a constant push for keeping crowley’s worries at bay. “we go back to the bedroom, and i put on some nice music, and we can snuggle up until you feel better?”

crowley grimaces, sticking his tongue out. he’s teasing as a child would. “you’ll put on something stupid,” he grumbles. “like coldplay, or ed sheeran.”

“hmm,” gabriel hums, irritatingly unbothered. “a movie, then?”

crowley pauses, considering his options. “can we cuddle on the couch? and steal angel’s old blankets?”

“of course, if you can get down for a second, just to let me set everything up.”

crowley pouts, but acquiesces, crossing his arms once he stands on his own two feet. gabriel can't help laughing, kneeling slightly as he leans in to kiss his forehead. not because he has to; admittedly, they’re of the same stature. but because he knows it’ll make crowley feel smaller, safer. and he wants that for him. today, he deserves it. 

“alright,” gabriel says. “go sit on the couch and wait for me, count to thirty if you need to. i’ll be right there.”

and crowley heads off with a sprint to his step, excited past the point of hiding it, and seeming in much, _much_ better spirits.

**Author's Note:**

> gabriel listens to and unironically enioys coldplay and you cant change my mind on this


End file.
